God Forgive Me [Antigua, Guatemala]
As with every other trip I’ve taken to a third world country, I was confronted by many beggars in every area I visited in Guatemala and Nicaragua. How am I to relate to these men and women created in God’s image, each of whom is clothed with a uniqueness to which I respond with pity stripped of action. I make a conscious decision to walk on by, sure to make no eye contact, ignoring the hand reaching outward and upwards toward me, as if I have just encountered a no one. I am ashamed.
What incredible arrogance. Moments after purchasing a tasty treat from a pastry shop, I am confronted with a man who is surely homeless. He is a man of incoherence, a long time since having visited a clothing store and a barber. He mumbles. He smells. Everyone seems to know him; most write him off – a crazy person. I don’t write him off. I pass him by. God forgive me.
How many other people have I passed this delightful, sunny morning, strangers I greet with “hola” or “buenos dias,” a simple “gracias” here, a “mui bien” there? These people, they are young, they are old, some pretty, others not, some obviously with more means than others, yet strangers all that evoke no pity in me, that incite no guilt burning within me. These are some ones. God forgive me.
What is wrong? Is my heart so dulled by a merrily walking along, pastry eating lifestyle that I have become hardened, purposely avoiding anything, any no one, who might cause a momentary burp, a bit of indigestion, in my world of the uber-humans?
This man is blessed. He is poor. He is a man who Jesus said needs a doctor. I didn’t doctor him; I certainly didn’t allow him to touch my garments. What if Jesus did? Is this man, in fact, Jesus? How preposterous!
Is he the overlooked whom I did not feed, I did not clothe, I did not house, I did not meet within the prison of his babbling incoherence, his stinking incontinence? I am but a quickly passing storm cloud, fulfilling Isaiah’s long ago forecast: having stopped my ears, closed my eyes, that I might not have to deal with Him.
This man of sorrow is one for whom I did nothing that I would have him do for me. I abandoned him in his need. I rejected him. Will He abandon me in mine? God, please forgive me. Show me how to repent.
Amen.
What incredible arrogance. Moments after purchasing a tasty treat from a pastry shop, I am confronted with a man who is surely homeless. He is a man of incoherence, a long time since having visited a clothing store and a barber. He mumbles. He smells. Everyone seems to know him; most write him off – a crazy person. I don’t write him off. I pass him by. God forgive me.
How many other people have I passed this delightful, sunny morning, strangers I greet with “hola” or “buenos dias,” a simple “gracias” here, a “mui bien” there? These people, they are young, they are old, some pretty, others not, some obviously with more means than others, yet strangers all that evoke no pity in me, that incite no guilt burning within me. These are some ones. God forgive me.
What is wrong? Is my heart so dulled by a merrily walking along, pastry eating lifestyle that I have become hardened, purposely avoiding anything, any no one, who might cause a momentary burp, a bit of indigestion, in my world of the uber-humans?
This man is blessed. He is poor. He is a man who Jesus said needs a doctor. I didn’t doctor him; I certainly didn’t allow him to touch my garments. What if Jesus did? Is this man, in fact, Jesus? How preposterous!
Is he the overlooked whom I did not feed, I did not clothe, I did not house, I did not meet within the prison of his babbling incoherence, his stinking incontinence? I am but a quickly passing storm cloud, fulfilling Isaiah’s long ago forecast: having stopped my ears, closed my eyes, that I might not have to deal with Him.
This man of sorrow is one for whom I did nothing that I would have him do for me. I abandoned him in his need. I rejected him. Will He abandon me in mine? God, please forgive me. Show me how to repent.
Amen.
posted by Rick Albertson at 7:27 AM
6 Comments:
I too have had the same encounters and thoughts, both here and abroad. May God help us to do it better. Love God, Love People.
Rick, this is great!
I don't know how to deal with the conviction that comes from ignoring the poverty that emerges from the squalor of third world/urban communities. I wonder what the Samaritan did the second time he encounterd a man beaten and left for dead and the third and the fourth, etc, etc. There are times we are called to address particular issues, but it is a collective problem.
Just today I had to ask a mentally unstable individual to leave Jobs Plus. She came in begging for a penny. I refused, but Abe gave her a dime. By the time she left, she was yelling about how hard hearted we were to only give her a dime. She comes in about two or three times a week. I used to give her a couple bucks, but stopped because it only caused her to raise expectations and ask for more. At least in the U. S. she gets SSI and has a payee and has a place to sleep and can find food on every corner. Unfortunately, in Guatamala there is no safety net.
What a powerful image. I admit I have walked on by. The last time I gave something, the guy, quite irrated, walked into a mini-mart and bought a pack of cigarettes. Oh well!
Your piece on the beggar touched on a lot of important themes for followers of Jesus in America. Well done.
Your piece on beggars was awesome - I loved it. Keep up the great work!
I was moved and convicted by your article on beggars. I so often struggle with this issue just in our very city when I'm downtown and pass beggars and make sure to not make eye contact. It's so easy to be desensitized and to not even see them as human beings, created in God's image. I feel so self-righteous, so arrogant, so "sorry" for these people. What is God calling us to do when passing a beggar on the street? I can't clothe and feed all of them. But I don't think God is saying it needs to be all or nothing. I put that burden on myself - "If I can't help them all, then why even help one? That would be unfair to the rest and will just make me feel bad and guilty that I didn't help all." So I turn off. I choose not to even think about it. I choose not to serve "the least of these." Yikes. I was especially overwhelmed by this when I was in Ethiopia. It was alarming. And not just the desperation, the depravity, the starvation of the people in Ethiopia, but it was alarming to be confronted head on with my own desperation, depravity and starvation of my soul and spirit. I could go on and on...:) I gave some money a couple weeks ago to a guy on the street at a stop light. I rolled down my window to see his eyes light up and I asked him to please spend it on food. He said "I promise." And I thought "Yeah right.Did I just waste that $5? Should I have done that?" I felt almost guilty for a second for giving this man $5 as I just knew he'd spend it on booze. But then God just told me, "You did what I asked of you right then and you don't need to worry about what he chooses to do with the money. You served the least of these and that's what I wanted you to do." Hmmm...it's an interesting topic to think about...
Post a Comment
<< Home